


Summer Showers

by xwynn



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff, Fluff without Plot, M/M, this is the cheesiest thing I've ever written
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-22
Updated: 2016-05-22
Packaged: 2018-06-09 23:12:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,469
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6928072
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xwynn/pseuds/xwynn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bokuto can be ridiculously cliche sometimes, but Kuroo doesn't mind.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Summer Showers

**Author's Note:**

> the bra sizes in here are standard japanese bra sizes. either way bokuto still doesn't have boobs.

“I told you it was going to rain today.” **  
**

Kuroo laughs lightly, chest rumbling against Bokuto’s spine as he spikes the ends of his already spiked hair. “I’m starting to think your hair can tell the weather.”

Clouds roll in, darkening the atmosphere outside their tiny home, loud but comforting in their arrival. Bokuto glances toward the open window, caged and content in the space between Kuroo’s legs, admiring the succulents he pushed out onto the window sill earlier as they await the rainfall that’s sure to come.

“Yeah? I’m like that one girl from Mean Girls-minus the boobs though.”

“Which one?”

Bokuto’s face screws up, trying to conjure up her appearance. “Uuuh, the blonde one? You know-typical cliche ‘dumb’ blonde. Kinda hot too.”

“Oh yeah I remember; wouldn’t that make your hair the equivalent of boobs?” Hands move from Bokuto’s hair to his chest, squeezing nonexistent breast, earning a hearty laugh and a smack at his hands.

“I don’t know man, I don’t make the rules, but I would be pretty hot with boobs.” He sticks his chest out, “What do you think? D? E maybe?

Kuroo shakes his head, patting Bokuto’s chest with both hands. “Nah, more like a solid C. A full C, borderline D but not quite. Also,” he starts, interrupting himself and smacking a sloppy kiss to Bokuto’s jaw that's promptly wiped off with a grin and a muttered ‘gross.’ “You’re pretty damn hot already, even without weather predicting boobs.”

Bokuto shrugs, setting comfortably back against Kuroo’s chest again. “You got yourself a real package deal here Tetsu, beauty _and_ weather telling abilities.”

“I must be the luckiest man on earth,” Kuroo drawls, not a trace of sarcasm in his voice.

Silence falls over them. Old reruns of Dragon Ball Z play on the TV. The sky outside darkens despite it only being midday as the clouds gather up their strength.

“So…blondes?” Kuroo asks, interrupting the quiet, referencing Bokuto’s earlier statement.

“Jealous?” He replies, lips stretching into a coy little grin.

“Not in the slightest.” A true statement on Kuroo’s part, though he was curious on Bokuto’s stance on the hair color. “I could dye my hair.”

Bokuto wrinkles his nose, imagining the man before him with light colored hair instead of the black locks he’s come to adore. “I love you, but I don’t think we can stay together if you become a blonde,” he looks up at Kuroo’s already teasing face, hands reaching up to touch the dark strands that fall over in Kuroo’s eyes. “It’d be like dating Tsukki or his brother, but with a cuter face.”

Kuroo leans into Bokuto’s touch, angling his neck downward so he can have more access, continuing on, “Let my hair grow out, just like Kenma’s. I bet I could even get shrimpie to call me pudding head too.”  

“I’d never let you,” he says, watching Kuroo’s eyes slip close as he threads his fingers through soft hair.

A small yawn escapes Kuroo, drowsiness in his voice when he mumbles, “It’ll be a surprise.”

Bokuto doesn’t respond, letting Kuroo rest, enjoying the way tan arms hold him, or the tangle of their legs on the couch, and the small measured breathing against his neck. He lets his eyes fall close too, not sleeping, simply relishing the comfort of Kuroo and their home. A strong breeze filters through the open window, humid and telling of the approaching precipitation.

The static in the air was tangible.

Time ticks by, neither of them bothered to care, both taking full advantage of their off day to laze about. But a sudden clap of thunder shakes the ceiling and with it the drone of heavy, fat droplets falling begins, startling Bokuto.

He stirs against Kuroo only for the arms wrapped around him to tighten as the owner tries their best to stay asleep, nuzzling into the crook of Bokuto’s neck.

But he has other plans.

Hands reach up again to twist mussed up hair between his fingers, he states, voice light and soft, “It’s raining now.”

A hum reverberated against his throat is all Bokuto gets in reply.

“We should go out.” He suggests, testing the waters little by little.

Kuroo already knows where this is headed, eyes still shut in protest, but he plays along anyway. “Out where?”

Bokuto shrugs, the feeling of eyelashes against his skin tickles slightly at his own movement. “Just outside. In the rain. We can play in it.”

A huff.

Bokuto takes this as a victory and presses on. “It’ll be fun.” A kiss on the chin-a manipulative action. “ _There is no growth without a little watering_ ,” he quotes.

Another huff. Harder this time. Eyelashes flutter, blinking open.

He’s always had a knack for being poetic at the worst of times.

Arms slacken, releasing their hold, a silent affirmation. Bokuto slips away, shivers running up his spine when feet press against the cool of wood floors, moving toward the shoes near the door. He opts for the sandals, wanting to feel the squelch of rain between his toes, and opens the door.

Kuroo snorts, still on the couch, fond amusement on his lips. “You’re gonna need some pants Bo,” referencing the uncovered boxers that display unashamedly on Bokuto’s form.

He clicks his tongue, smiles sheepishly, then pads to their bedroom for something presentable. “I could have given Kubo-san a heart attack,” Bokuto says, mentioning their elderly neighbor who lives across the street when he returns to the threshold.

“You’re telling me, I have a heart attack every day.”

“Are you flirting with me?” Bokuto laughs, he doesn’t know if Kuroo’s statement was of the romantic or teasing type nor does he care. A couch pillow is thrown at his head and he dodges it with a holler and bounds out the door.

“You’re gonna catch a cold,” Kuroo says, his final attempt at protest when he finally makes it to the door, feet shoved into his own shoes.

A boyish grin is his answer.

His heart flutters at that. Funny how no matter how long it's been, Bokuto still possesses that ability, as if they’re seventeen again and he still wondered if the fukurodani captains likes him more than just friends.

“Did anybody ever tell you,” Bokuto starts, bounding up to him, ignoring his comment, “that you really are a cat?” A already wet hand takes Kuroo’s, tugging.

“Possibly once or twice,” he shivers, when droplets cold and unmerciful meet skin. Rain weighs down his hair, sticking it to his forehead and into brown eyes. Humid air clings to his clothes, cold droplets inciting steam to roll of the previously hot asphalt.

But the way Bokuto pulls him into an embrace, swaying them both to the song of the thunder and rush of water on the street tugs at his heart strings, making it hard to be upset with the weather. So he laughs, happy and carefree.

He’s got it bad and it’s been _years._

“What are you thinking about Bo?” Kuroo asks, watching Bokuto tilt his head back to the skies, eyebrows furrowed and pensive, raindrops racing down his face.

A hum. Click of his tongue. Gold eyes lock on brown.

“I think we should kiss. Like right now.”

“And why is that?”

“Because,” hands run down Kuroo’s side, slipping under his tshirt, thumbs pressing into the small of his back, closing the already small gap between them. “It’s raining.”

Kuroo rolls his eyes, playful. “You’ve been watching too many romance movies.”

Bokuto shrugs, caught but unabashed.

“But-”

“But?” Bokuto echoes.

Kuroo’s head dips, cupping his hand on Bokuto’s cheek, thumb brushing the water on his lips away. Faces mere millimeters apart. “We should.”

Eyes slip close instinctively and Bokuto takes the initiative of letting them meet.

Kissing Kuroo was always dizzying. It made his head spin at eighteen years old, behind school buildings and the sun low in the sky. And now, at twenty five, with the rain in his hair and the clouds casting darkness over them, he still finds it a little hard to stay upright.

He grips Kuroo’s waist, firm but soft, steadying; earning him a light sigh against his mouth. He takes the opportunity to explore, tasting, memorizing.

There is warmth between them. Incredible, intense warmth. Unwavering since their high school days, a stirring in their chest that neither can remember being without.

Kuroo’s heart is fast and racing when he breaks apart, panting. He kisses the corners of Bokuto’s mouth. His lips are wet and swollen, a cherry red, and Kuroo restrains the desire to lose him himself against it.

“Was this your plan all along, get me out into the rain and then woo me like some cliche romance?”

Bokuto laughs, rubbing small circles into Kuroo’s waist. “Guilty, guilty, and guilty.”

A smile.

“Good plan.”

**Author's Note:**

> this is what happens when it rains for three weeks straight and you've been listening to nothing but soft romantic music because you're the sappiest sap on the planet who's still gets hella emotional about bokuroo. enjoy.


End file.
